


d'où viens-tu, beau etranger?

by Dreamystory



Category: His Dark Materials (TV)
Genre: Human!Iorek, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:08:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25517794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamystory/pseuds/Dreamystory
Summary: Lee and his meeting with two golden eyes.
Relationships: Iorek Byrnison & Lee Scoresby, Iorek Byrnison/Lee Scoresby
Kudos: 3





	d'où viens-tu, beau etranger?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So i decided to make this AU (Hunchback of notre dame au) because i figured out Lee & Iorek are pretty much Phoebus and Esmeralda in the cartoon, not quite the book.   
> I created this side note to specify the origin of this human Iorek (fac similar to Esmeralda for this AU). In this version Iorek is a Gyptian man (actually born from norwegian parents but was orphaned at a young age and got adopted by the gyptian community in Trollesund.)

Such a desolate Nordic town, what news for a thirsty aeronaut and above all looking for answers that only God could have had ; answers on why it was so cold in the north, on why despite having many jackets on, the so-called Arctic cold of Trollesund still managed to get into his bones and make him shiver from the core of his body? Lee Scoresby had faithfully put his hat back on his head, as firm as an iron grip on his copper-black hair and a prank look was only accentuated by the shadow of the ornament he wore on his head. A man shrouded in mystery almost as was his sporadic way of expressing himself (mostly in jokes of doubtful taste, sarcasm alternated and contrasted by moments of almost disturbing seriousness on the part of a person who at first sight could have seen the soul of the party) , but certainly nothing more could be expected from such a lonely man, a man who by definition was abandoned to himself and his abilities especially because of the profession he had chosen...He had become an aeronaut at eighteen, won his first balloon at twenty-four and learned not to start fights at twenty-five and at thirty years of age it was only him, his balloon and the night sky (or daytime, one beauty contrasted with the other every time and Lee never knew what he preferred in long conversations with himself). A mentality that for others would have seemed crazy, only to some it was fascinating as well as intrinsic in being so complicated of that traveling man who left a trail of broken hearts wherever he went, without however ever looking back as in a silent but ironic pact. Don't look back, just forward. This seemed his motto, but nobody knew it and the Texan had never said it. Keeping up was the only way not to die in certain situations, and above all it was a way not to get into trouble. Lee had been following him for twelve years now without worrying about it ... but Trollesund and the summons to Sysselman called him to different habits, habits that he would never have been complicit in but that necessarily had framed him and made him forget his mantra ... what could be so important? he asked himself as the now dry and decidedly not dangerous ice crunched under his boots and the aeronaut nervously ran his eyes over the surface of the map of Trollesund which he had found crammed into some compartment next to being thrown into the sea. (to make you understand how much Trollesund and his people liked him) Occasionally looking up to try to identify common points was of no use, so that map wasn't even needed "one changes town for twelve years and this is the result ..." he muttered crumpling the map and throwing it away with a sharp movement of his slender wrist. Asking for information around was absolutely not an option given the fame that was created there ... no, it was not the case. The only option was to walk to the meeting place, hoping to himself never to find him so as not to see the Sysselman's gaunt face again. Lee put his hands in the large pockets of his winter coat and went on walking, puffing slightly before music attracted his attention to a scene that was not entirely familiar to him especially there. A mother held a little boy by the hand, the little boy started to approach a group of people who at that moment were spreading some music with a bagpipe and a tambourine. But the mother pulled him away and said "don't go near them! They are street dancers, they will steal you to the bone!" He knew that ethnic group ... they were a rather large populations present only for a few years and they were nomads from the north-eastern islands.  
Lee may have been a single man, but he was certainly not cruel. Indeed, his sound principles were what made him feel most and which often made him start battles lost at the start, ended with him beaten to blood. Well, if those two hadn't given those two artists the recognition they deserved, they would have given it to them: a cap was lying in front of the main player and Lee rummaged deeply in the large pockets of his jacket until he found a few cents to put inside. It wasn't much, but with a little luck it would have doubled with the arrival of other good-hearted people.  
Lee had always thought about the disadvantages of having a good view, but he could only see the advantages when it allowed him to be able to see the one who held the tambourine and who turned at that moment, a bold smile on his face shaded by a light sun but which only gave depth to those golden eyes that seemed to sift his soul. The stranger wore a light blue tunic that opened in a wide neckline, leaving him almost bare-chested (perfect opportunity for Lee to admire his white yet perfect skin and his broad chest, not even the shadow of a freckle mentioned on that Nordic face), his pants twere of a darker color than the band he wore at the waist and a small circle pierced the lobe of his left ear. Lee Scoresby had seen few dancers, but this one did not dance much to do and that was seen with bare eyes  
That man must have been just a little older than him, perhaps a year older, and he wore all the pride possible and imaginable on his beautiful face. He had features never seen before, but they were absolutely incredible... Marked and strong yet delicate and Nordic at the same time. Lee had no control over his facial expressions at the moment, so he must have seemed very bewitched by the handsome stranger and his hair ivory linen hair. A marked lateral smile and a powefully arched thick eyebrow of him was what the aeronaut received in exchange for his enamored expression (head bowed to the side and mouth open like a cod),and the handsome performer clapped his hand on the tambourine, with a short bow and a nod in his direction as if he wished him a good day ... Lee's heart made a turn in his chest. Had that Norse God noticed him? When he turned and turned his back on him, the fear of never seeing him attacked him again and Lee was quick to utter the word "de donde eres,¿ guapo desconocido?" speaking in Spanish towards him was his very first instinct, and he realized it only when he turned and gave him an interrogative look and yet in a certain sense sly "hm?" and he asked making Lee blush,he immediately took off his hat as a sign of respect "it doesn't happen every day to meet such a beautiful dancer" he explained himself. He must have seemed very self-conscious to that brave potential street lover. the other moved the tambourine again, waving one side and ringing the rattles attached to the edge of the band that he wore tight on his waist (which was one of the smallest waistlines that Lee had ever seen) "i'm not just a dancer." he uttered, turning away from the stranger. Lee approached, determined not to miss the chance "pardon me...can I at least know your name?" He said, hat still clutched on his chest in respect " allow me ... Lee Scoresby, professional aeronaut ... and you? "and he gave him a short bow, presenting himself as he would have done with a respectable gentleman. The other, with his beautiful golden eyes, seemed quite confused by that respectful presentation ... as if he was not used to it, as if he had become insensitized to all the insulting stereotypes towards his people. Meanwhile he turned, because the dance was not yet finished as it seemed, but looked at him in passing from over his shoulder (that tambourine seemed to move by itself so much was the naturalness of the movement of his wrist) "Is this an interrogation?"   
"it's actually called introduction." then the one who looked like a dancer lowered the tambourine and looked at him, squaring him from head to foot again on "mmh..." he bestowed "you are different from the others."  
"Thank you," Lee replied, his embarrassment still seemed to be under control, at least until the other (a span taller than he) approached "Iorek."  
" sorry?"  
"My name,Iorek."  
An exotic name for the most exotic man he had ever come across in years of travels, asking for the meaning would have been too much for a first meeting "a wonderful name for an equally surprising man" and without waiting for an answer he placed a kiss on the knuckle of his left hand, causing a slight scoff in the other "are you always so eloquent or am I lucky?" When Lee looked up he found an expression of complacency yet in a sense playfulness, as if he was used to that kind of honeyed statements by anyone and that kind of reaction was unexpected, completely. The Gyptian looked at him almost as if he felt a certain tenderness for him, but he wanted to look for it under a thick layer of haughtiness "oh, uhm...i-uh .." taking advantage of the confusion, the dance continued but with a single movement that signaled the end: a deep bow brandishing the tambourine with a weapon for the final blow "are you sure you should talk to me, Mr. Scoresby?" his playful gaze replaced by some line that presented the occurrence of a past pain and his golden eyes lowered in intensity, at least four shades, while Iorek put away the tambourine "why shouldn't I?" he asked genuinely confused by that sudden question? Could it be that the handsome dancer had already tired of saying a word to him? "Aren't you afraid we can hurt you? rob you or something?" replied the other "you would certainly not be the first." there was an anger accumulated in his booming voice, so much that Lee was sure that he had suffered discrimination of all kinds throughout his life as a street child, a street boy and finally a street man with his dazzling eyes and its fluid movements. Maybe they could fool the insults for a while, but they started again as soon as the music stopped. The respectful aeronaut shook his head "I do not have these prejudices, they taught me to love and love my neighbor unconditionally as God teaches us." Iorek looked at him, a spark of hope burning in his gaze. His companion, however, shook him by the shoulder "Guards. We must leave immediately!" and before Lee could say more, the handsome traveler turned and started running. Lee instinctively reached out to him and grabbed his wrist "wait!" a desperation not his gripped his voice in an impressive way "tell me I'll see you again, please!" The urgency in his eyes mixed with another brushstroke of tenderness as in a cave painting "you will find me where the north wind caresses the mountains. Until then, among the ice of this city" and without saying anything else he hovered from his caught and vanished on the streets of Trollesund.


End file.
